Confessions and Choir Music
by kathiann
Summary: He had been watching her for months,and now she was going to do something about it. A continuation of Guilt, but you don't have to read that to read this. My first and probably last Jace Jane/Grace fic. Blame for this goes to Eve215. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: **Before you read this know that this entire story is Eve215's fault. She said she would gladly take the blame, so if you have problems with it, I blame her. SO do you ever have an idea in your head that will just not go way? That is this story. It would not leave me alone. It took me less than a week (I started writing this last Sunday, and finished yesterday) and most of it was written in the week hours of the morning while my daughter wasn't sleeping because we couldn't find her blankie. We've found it now, so it's all good. This story could be seen as a continuation of my story "Guilt" but it is not necessary to read it to understand this. I will not stop you if you do want to read it though. This has not been betaed, with finales and all coming up for me next week, I just wanted to get it posted before that started. SO any and all spelling and grammatical errors are totally and completely my own (although I have re-read this like four times to check). I am the champion of the horrendously long authors note, so feel free to skip it, but just one more thing-any one out there make jam?

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, I would not be writing this, it would be on the show, no matter how wrong I feel this particular pairing is. SO be for warned.

She wondered how long he had planned on sitting in the back of the church without telling her he was coming. She had seen him there, on Easter. At first she didn't believe that it had been him, and by the time church was over, he had left. She had asked the woman who had been sitting next to him, and the description of him that she gave seemed to fit. She had told Grace that he was stunningly handsome, even if he wasn't wearing a tie in church, and that he had laughed at the most inappropriate times, especially for an Easter service.

Grace had to stop her before she went on a tirade about people who thought it was good enough to just come to church on Easter and Christmas and think they were going to get saved. Grace had been tempted to tell the woman that the man who had sat next to her for the entire service was an atheist, but was afraid that she would try to convince the pastor that they needed to burn the church down because it had been sullied by such an unbeliever.

Next week he had been there again. Sitting on the last row, the chapel wasn't as full as it had been the week before, and this time she knew it was him, but as before, he was gone before the end of the service, it was almost like he hadn't been there at all.

He didn't say anything about it at work, and she didn't either. If he noticed that she watched him a bit more than before he didn't say anything. She had been trying to figure out why he was going to church, _her_ church. She hadn't noticed a change in his attitude, he was still the same smug jerk he always was, still caused Lisbon more grief than necessary. He seemed to get the biggest kick out of making her mad.

She looked for him now, sitting in what was coming to be his regular spot in the last pew. Every Sunday that they weren't on a case, he was there, and every Sunday he left before the service was over. She was beginning to think it wasn't church he was coming for.

It didn't take long after that realization to figure out what had probably caused him to come to her church that first time. She thought back to the week before Easter, she had been trying to finalize plans for the weekend, her mom was trying to get her to come home, but she didn't want to spend that much time on a plane, only to have to turn around and come back again.

The excuse she had given was that she was singing a solo in the church choir for their Easter service. She had been talking at work, when else did she have the time, and really, it gave her an excuse if her mom started to bug her about things she didn't want to talk about, like her personal life, or lack thereof.

She thought it suspicious that Jane had walked into the break room almost as soon as she had hung up the phone, but it was Jane, most of what he did seemed suspicious. And now, there he was, sitting in a church he didn't believe in, that worshiped a God he hated, just to heat her sing. She had wanted to approach him about it at work, but it never seemed like a good time. There were always people around, and it was not a conversation she wanted to have Rigsby or Lisbon overhear.

So she had worked out a plan. She wasn't going to be singing today, she had told the director that she had a cold, and that she was afraid that singing would hurt her voice. He had believed her, why wouldn't he, she was a good church going girl, why would she lie.

She had waited until after the service had started to come into the chapel. She wanted to make sure Jane was already sitting down. She stood in the back waiting for the choir to stand to sing. She wanted to see what Jane's reaction was to her not being there before she approached him.

She didn't have to wait very long, the choir was standing to sing now, and there was Sara, the backup soloist, the one who sang when Grace was out of town on a case, or even in town on a case. She really did have a pretty voice; her range just wasn't as wide. She didn't know what she was expecting from Jane, but the second it became clear that Grace was not the soloist; he was up, out of his seat and heading towards the exit.

She almost had to run to catch up with him, and caught him just outside the church building. "Jane! Wait!" She called out to him, and ran up to grab his arm.

"Grace. I see you finally noticed me." He said looking at her with a look that startled her and caused her to drop his arm.

"Why are you here?" She asked knowing that the direct approach was always the best approach when dealing with Patrick Jane.

"Why am I standing on the front steps of a church?" Jane asked, smiling at her, clearly mocking her. If she had been Lisbon she would have hit him, but she was much gentler than that, and so she simply rolled her eyes.

"No, why are you at _my_ church? You've been coming for months, ever since Easter. You think I haven't noticed you, but I have. I want to know why." She was trying to look fierce; she had been studying Lisbon, trying to figure out how she managed to intimidate men with just a look, but was nowhere good as she was.

"Well," Jane looked around, trying to figure out a good reason for him being here, other than watching Grace sing. "I've decided that I need guidance in my life, and this seemed as good a place as any to get it." He flashed a smile at her again, hoping she would buy it, but she didn't.

"You are not as good a liar as you think you are Patrick Jane. You leave before I get a chance to come and find you every week, and today, when I wasn't up there singing, you left, before the first note was sung." She hadn't asked a question outright, but there was certainly one hanging there waiting to be answered.

"You have a beautiful voice Grace, you don't show it off at work, not even when we're singing Happy Birthday to someone. Instead we're stuck with a bunch of off key tone deaf monkeys, and here this whole time you've had this beautiful gift that you weren't sharing, why is that?"

"Don't change the subject. Why didn't you tell me you were going to come? Instead you slink in and sit in the back the last possible second before the sermon starts, and you're gone the second the choir is done singing."

He looked her straight in the eyes. The intense gaze that he usually reserved for the boss was on his face, and she found such scrutiny to be almost unbearable. She was ready to turn away when Jane reached out and grabbed her hand. "The choir doesn't sing in the same spot all the time. They always sing after the pastor has said something, to be honest I never really pay attention to that part. Really, I just want…" he paused at this point, breaking his look away from her like he's ashamed of what he's about to say. "I just want to hear you sing."

If this had been a normal conversation she would be smirking right now, she would put on her self satisfied 'eureka' face and gloat in the moment slightly. But it isn't any normal moment. The tender way that he said the last part had her putting her free hand on his shoulder, even though she had never really touched him before. She was about to say something when his intense gaze was back on hers.

"Why do you hide your beautiful voice, in all honesty, I didn't think there was anything that could make me like you more until I showed up here on Easter. When I heard your voice for the first time, singing, I mean I've heard you talk before, but singing, it was angelic. I would have done anything to hear it again, and so I've been coming every Sunday, just to hear that angelic sound again."

Grace couldn't help feeling slightly embarrassed at the praise he was lavishing on her. "I don't just sing at church you know." She said looking anywhere but his face. She was afraid to see that intense look in his eyes. It was gone however, replaced by a playful look.

"Oh and where do you sing, anywhere I would be able to hear?" He had let go of her hand at this point, playful with her now, he didn't feel the need to restrain her anymore.

"OH, um" she hadn't actually expect him to ask that question, it was always amazing to her how he could switch gears so quickly. "I, um, sing in the car, to the radio, and when I'm at home, I sing while I'm washing dishes and doing my laundry, and I sing in the shower, but then, most people sing in the shower don't they." She was slightly embarrassed at her last confession and cursed her pail coloring that caused the red in her face to be even more pronounced.

"So, could I come to hear you in the shower?" He asked laughing, not at her, but just in general. He found it amusing that she had admitted to him that she sung in the shower.

"What? NO!" She toke a step away from him at that point, uncomfortable with the turn that the conversation had taken.

It was then that the door to the church opened and the crowd started to flow out. They were still standing in the middle of the front walk of the church, like islands as the families and seniors flowed around them. She jumped when the pastor came up behind her, and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Grace, wonderful to see you here. The director told me you were feeling a bit under the weather." His over jovial manner was what had attracted Grace to this church when she had first come to Sacramento, but she was silently cursing it now, knowing what was going to happen next. "And are you a friend of our star here? I've seen you sitting in the back, but I've never had the chance to meet you."

Before Grace could intervene, Jane took the hand proffered by the pastor. "Patrick Jane, I work with Grace, and let me tell you, I think she is just amazing." He gave the pastor what she has come to call charm smile #5, the one he used on people he secretly despised but wanted to impress anyway.

"Mr. Jane was just leaving," Grace said turning to the pastor, she wanted to move Jane away from the pastor as quickly as possible, she liked this church and didn't want to have to find another when Jane's mouth started to think for him like it does more often than he would probably admit.

"Well, I hope to see you again next week," The pastor said shaking Jane's hand again, as if he didn't notice that Jane hadn't let it go.

"As long as sweet Grace here keeps singing, I'll keep coming back." He said with a slightly toned down version of charm smile #5, it was smug smile #3 at this point. "Walk me to my car Grace." He said turning to her. She wanted to say no, but like so many of the female's that they encountered in their line of work she is powerless to his looks and smiles and she begrudgingly walked with him across the parking lot to the one of the furthest spots from the door.

The parking lot was thinning rapidly, but there were still quite a few cars in the parking lot, and soon the pastor who had been watching them go lost sight of them behind some of the larger vans and SUV's in the parking lot.

"So, what do you say, do you do privet concerts?" He asked as they stood by his small blue car.

"I don't know, I don't usually sing be myself." She said, not looking at him. She noticed for the first time that she's a hair taller than him with the shoes she's wearing, and smiled about it.

"I've been coming to hear you sing for a while Grace, and today was the first time you weren't the soloist." He stepped toward her, effectively trapping her next to the car, blocking off her means of escape.

"I usually sing with the choir." The intense look was back, and this time, she didn't look away. She attempted to stare him down. She had seen Lisbon do it before; stare down Patrick Jane, Grace just wasn't sure how she managed. Did he usually have that smoldering look in his eyes? The look that made her toes tingle. She was failing the battle and found herself leaning back against the car; it was as if she needed the added support to keep herself standing. The door of the car next to his opened, causing him to take another step towards her, he was almost completely pressed up against her now, and she could feel his legs pressing against hers.

"You don't need backup Grace." He whispered in ear. His breath against her skin; in such an intimate position; caused a reaction in her that she hadn't expected. "You are fabulous on your own."

She knew he wasn't just talking about her singing anymore. "Patrick." She started; it was more of a whisper than anything. She was not sure where this was leading, and not sure what she thought about the possibilities.

"Tonight Grace," he said before pulling away from her, "I'll cook dinner, you sing. What do you say?" He was back to his boyish grin, simple grin #2, and there was no hint of the smoldering that had been in his eyes just moments before.

"Um, ok. 7:00 sound good?" She asked shakily.

"Perfect. I'll see you then." She smiled and waved at her as he got into his car and drove off. She just stood there staring at him, watching him go. Whatever she had expected to come from confronting him today, this was certainly not it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note:** So the response to the last part was dismal to say the least, but I am committed, so here is chapter 2. Again, not betaed for the reasons mentioned in the previous chapter. And also, I'd like to point the blame for this to Eve215, just to be on the safe side.

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, I would live in a house with decent A/C to all parts. My house has an old part and an addition. The addition gets cold just great, the old part doesn't. The same thing happens with the heater. The fact that it's April and I already need the A/C is another matter all together.

She didn't know why she was nervous. Rigsby had come over to her apartment before, and it had never bothered her, so why was she nervous now? Oh, right, because it was Patrick Jane. He was going to come over and analyze everything in her apartment. What would he think of the large family photo taken at the last reunion they had had, it was displayed prominently on the wall. She had never been embarrassed about it before, she had a large family, a lot of nieces, nephews and cousins, nothing to be ashamed of, but this was Jane. He didn't have a family.

She wondered for a minute if she should take it down, but knew that he would be able to tell something was missing, and she didn't want to have to explain to him what had been hanging there, and why she had moved it. She walked back into her bedroom and looked in the mirror, adjusting her hair and looking to see if her makeup was still good.

_This is ridiculous_, she thought, _it's just Jane for crying out loud._ She shook her head at the ridiculousness of the situation. He was coming over to her apartment to make her dinner, so that she would sing for him. She didn't think her voice was anything that fabulous, but for some reason Jane was fascinated with it.

She walked back into the living room again, wondering if she had time to vacuum before he got here, thinking for the millionth time that it was ridiculous for her to be worrying so much about him coming over, it was just a co-worker coming to hang out for the evening. Just a co-worker, a very attractive co worker, who had just today, pinned her up against his car and made her feel things she hadn't in ages, longer than that almost. And he hadn't even kissed her.

She was still thinking about it when she heard the knock on her door. She knew it was him, right on time, she hadn't expected that, she thought he was going to be late. She opened the door to see Jane smiling his 1000 watt smile-happy grin #1-and holding a paper bag of groceries in his arm. "Jane, come in." She said holding the door open for him.

"Why thank you Grace." He said walking by her, closer than he had to really, it made her blush and she cursed the light skin that seemed required with red hair.

"What did you bring?" She asked following him into the kitchen. She didn't bother asking how he knew where it was, it was a small apartment, and he was Patrick Jane after all, fake psychic or no, he knew things.

"I was thinking chicken and rice, what do you say?" He said putting the bag on the counter.

"Sounds good to me." She stood watching him as he pulled the groceries out of the bag.

"So, are you going to sing?" He asked without looking at her.

"Dinner first, then I'll sing, while I'm washing the dishes, like I do every night." She gave him a kind smile at the disappointment in his eyes.

She watched him cook. She liked the way it looked, having someone else in her kitchen coking. Rigsby had brought pizza when he had come over, he hadn't even come into the kitchen to get a drink, she had gotten it for him. Really, since she had moved to Sacramento, there had only been three guys in her apartment, Dan, Rigsby, and now, Jane. If she was asked she would say that she didn't have a preference for which guy she'd like to see more often, certainly not Dan, but deep inside she knew that it was Jane that she wanted to have in her home more often.

His cooking was amazing; she had never tasted anything like it. It was better than what she'd had the last time she went on a date and the guy had taken her to an expensive restaurant. They finished eating and sat at the table for a little bit longer, talking and laughing. He was teasing her about Rigsby, and she kept blushing and turning her head to that he couldn't see. She finally realized that she couldn't put it off any longer and stood up taking the plates back to the kitchen and starting the hot water running in the sink.

She turned the radio on to her favorite station, and knowing that Jane would be expecting it started singing along. After a few minutes she was so focused on the warm sudsy water and the music that she forgot that Jane was there all together. He hadn't said anything since she had left the table, and she just didn't think about him. She found herself dancing along to the music that was coming out of the radio, swinging her hips and swaying in time to the music. The water sloshed gently in the sink as she swished her hands around in it, washing the plates and glasses that they had used for eating.

She jumped when she felt hands on her hips "Jane! What are you doing?" She asked spinning around, his hands never leaving her hips.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, it's just that, you looked so happy, singing and dancing, I just had to be a part of it." He gave her a variation on his boyish smile, simple grin #2 with a little smug #1, and looked into her eyes. "Will you dance with my Grace?" He didn't wait for her response before pulling her way form the sink and twirling her around the kitchen.

She held onto his shoulders, even thought her hands are still soapy from the dish water. The song was fast and she stopped singing, trying to keep up with the pace that he had set for them. The song finished and the next one was much slower, a ballad, and Jane slowed the pace.

He moved one of his hands up her back, pulling her closer while still keeping a hand on her waist. And now, instead of having both hands on his shoulders, Grace found herself sliding a hand down his back and resisting the urge to lay her head on his chest as they swayed slowly to the music.

"Grace." He said quietly in her ear. "Don't be mad."

Before she had the chance to ask him why she would be mad at him he pressed his lips to hers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note:** I almost forgot to post this, I forgot that I had promised I'd post this right before or right after the episode tonight. So here it is, This is from Jane's POV, basically picks up where chapter one leaves off. Again, not betaed, so all mistakes are mine. If there are any glaring one, let me know, I'll fix them.

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, we would have episodes like tonight's every night. Classic Jane, I loved it.

Nervous was not a word used to describe Patrick Jane. He preferred tense and slightly less sure of himself than normal. This was something that he could change. Observe the situation, and take the appropriate measures to make sure that he regained the upper hand in the situation.

He had been watching Grace sing for months now; it was only a matter of time before she confronted him about it. He had been surprised that it took her so long. Really, in the months that he had known her he had seen her becoming more and more assertive at work. He supposed that the little incident with the Dan, the man who tried to kill them both, had placed a damper on her personal life, and the movement she had been taking towards being more assertive there.

He hadn't meant to be so forward in the church parking lot earlier, really he had only planed on throwing her a little of kilter, make her nervous so it would be impossible to resist his charm. Well, it had worked, but now he found himself wandering around the grocery store trying to figure out what to cook her for dinner. He desperately wanted to hear her sing something besides the solemn religious hymns that she sang with the choir every week.

He had never been a phenomenal cook, at least not by his wife's standards. She had been classically trained as a chief. She had taken it upon herself to try to teach him the "basics" as she put it, he had been making slow progress. His daughter, despite her young age, had been much better at it than he was.

The thought of his wife and daughter caused him to stop his wanderings through the store. He wondered what he was really doing, going over to Grace's apartment tonight, to hear her sing. Why he was _really _going over there. Her sensing had enchanted him, like a sirens song, calling him out to the deep. He was powerless to resist it.

He shook his head to clear it; he had to focus on the problem at hand. What to cook for dinner that was worth of such an angel. His best dish by far was his own special version of chicken and rice. His wife had always said that is was the only dish he did better than her. He hadn't made it since…well, he wouldn't think about that.

He arrived at her apartment right on time. He immediately noticed the nervousness in her eyes, the way the darted around. She kept looking at the carpet, and the large picture hanging on the wall above her sofa. He waited until she was behind her to smirk, she was nervous because she didn't vacuum, and because her family picture was displayed so prominently in her living room, there for anyone to see.

He knew how nervous she got around him when his family came up, and decided not to call her on her nervousness now. She was lucky to have such a large family, and he wasn't about to make her feel ashamed about it by mentioning it.

He started moving about the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers, seeing where the dishes were kept, and was surprised to see the amount and quality of the dishes contained in them. He glanced back over his shoulder at her, giving her a slight smile. If he had to guess, he would say that the pots and pans were a gift, probably from her mother, and that it was used often, even thought she was usually here by herself, and rarely home. The nice china, that was something that Grace herself would have chosen, they were whit, with a light blue flower pattern on them, subtly beautiful, much like she was.

"So are you going to sing?" He didn't turn to face her, he knew she wasn't going to sing, but he thought he may as well try.

"Dinner first, then I'll sing, while I'm washing dishes, like I do every night." Jane looked over his shoulder at that, giving her a disappointed look, just to see the sad look on her face. He turned away again, concentrating on the food on the stove.

The conversation over dinner was easy; he teased her slightly about Rigsby attraction to her, just to see her blush. He could make Lisbon blush at the drop of a hat at work, but this, the reaction from Grace, this was something that he cherished. She rarely engaged with him anymore. It was as if she had stopped trying, and that bothered him. He loved making her laugh and he did so know, by telling a lame joke about chicken. Really it wasn't all that funny, but his delivery was right on, and her laughter was so infectious that he found himself chuckling along with her.

They finished eating and just sat there for a few minutes, talking. A few minutes after they finished Grace cleared the table and began to wash. She turned the radio on; Jane assumed that it was the channel she always listened to as she didn't need to adjust the dial at all. She began to sing, quietly at first, but with more feeling and strength as she started to wash.

She was really getting into it now, and Jane watched as she started to sway her hips in time to the music. Her hair was swinging slightly in the loose ponytail down her back. Watching her, hearing her voice, caused something to stir in Jane that he hadn't felt in a very, very long time. To his surprise he wasn't bothered by the feelings, but rather, he was curious about them.

Grace's dancing was becoming even more hypnotic than it was before. She was now not only swaying her hips, but twisting up and down slightly as she continued to sing. Jane had the uncontrollable erg to touch her, and so he stood up quietly from where he had been sitting and walked up behind her. He stood close watching has her hips moved, and finally couldn't fight the desire any longer, he reached up and placed his hand on her hips.

"Jane! What are you doing?" She spun around in his hands; Jane didn't want to lose contact with her.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, it's just that, you looked so happy, singing and dancing, I just had to be a part of it." He grinned at her and looked into her eyes. "Will you dance with my Grace?" He didn't wait for her response before pulling her way form the sink and twirling her around the kitchen.

She held onto his shoulders, and he could feel the water and soap still on her hands seeping through the thin material of his shirt. The song was fast and she had stopped singing, he had set a fast pace to the song, probably faster than needed, but was enjoying the slight panting she was doing as she matched the pace he set.

The song finished and the next one is much slower, a ballad, and they slow the pace. He moved one of his hands up her back, pulling her closer while still keeping a hand on her waist. He was enjoying the feel of her back against his hands, the softness of her long hair under his fingers. He resisted the urge to play with it. He felt Graces hands moving down his back. He looked at her face, and realized that she was really very pretty when she was resisting the urge to get closer to him. There was something that he wanted to do now, and looking in her eyes, he knew that she wanted it to, even if she didn't know it yet.

"Grace." He said quietly in her ear. "Don't be mad."

Before she had the chance to ask him why she would be mad at him he pressed his lips to hers.


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note: **A big thank you to every one who read this and reviewed. And of course to Eve215, who encouraged this little story. This is sadly the last chapter, so I hope every one enjoys it. Again, not betaed, so all mistakes are mine.

**Disclaimer: **They are not mine, as evident by the fact that this would never happen on the show.

The kiss is not powerful or passionate, but sweet and gentle. It seemed to Grace, that this was the best first kiss she had ever had. His lips were soft and he didn't try to push her into deepening the kiss, not that she didn't want to. Her mind was screaming at her that this was Patrick Jane. She shouldn't be doing this, but she ignored it. Realizing that Jane seemed content to just move his lips against her, Grace took it upon herself to deepen the kiss. She slightly opened her mouth and nipped at his bottom lip with her teeth. She ran her tongue across the thin slit in his lips, was happy when he opened his mouth to hers. Was it her imagination, or did she hear him moaning when she swept her tongue through his mouth?

She brought one of her hands up to play with the curls at the base of his neck, the other one working its way up and down his arm. He had one of his hands at the base of her neck, with the other on the small of her back, pulling her closer, almost crushing her to his chest. He was drawing small circles on her back with his fingers.

It seemed to Grace that time stood still, she couldn't remember the last time she had felt like this, if she had ever felt like this. Sure, she had kissed lots of guys in her life, who hadn't, but this-this was different. It was, it sounded so cliché, magical. In the back of her mind there was still that voice, telling her that this was Patrick Jane; that he was _not_ the guy she should be standing her with, making out-for lack of a better word-with.

She moved her lips from his, kissing along his jaw, down his neck, to the spot right behind his ear. He moaned again, and she found the sound strangely exciting. She felt him stiffen against her, and mumble her name. She kept kissing along his neck and jaw line, scraping his skin slightly with her teeth.

"Grace." He said a little more forcefully, and she noticed that he had stopped moving his hand on her back.

"What." She asked quietly, not really trusting her voice at the moment.

"Were you expecting a visitor?" Under normal circumstances his voice would have sounded amused, but right now it sounded forced, slightly strangled.

Grace turned around and gasped, there standing in the door way of her kitchen was Wayne Rigsby. His mouth was hanging open and he was staring at his colleges in disbelief. Grace was unsure what to do; she was torn between holding tight to Jane, and jumping away like she was a teenager who had been caught in the act by her father. In the end Jane solved the problem for her by pulling her closer for a second and then dropping his hands letting her go. Grace took a step away, and looked at Rigsby.

"What are you doing here?" She asked when she finally found her voice.

"I tried to call, to see if you wanted to watch a movie, you didn't answer, so I thought I'd come by, you didn't answer my knocking, but the door was unlocked, and I heard music, so I came in. I guess I know why you didn't answer." The look on his face was one of disbelief and anger, but to her surprise, it wasn't directed at her, but rather the blond man still standing very closely behind her.

"Rigsby, I-" He cut her off with a shake of his head and turned on his heal and stormed out of her apartment, slamming the door behind him.

"Grace." Jane said turning her to him. She pulled away, her face belatedly turning bright red. She buried her face in her hands and went to sit at the table, not wanting to face him right now, the feelings she had been experiencing still fresh on the surface.

"I am such an idiot." She mumbled into her hands.

"No you're not." Jane said walking up behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder. He smiled when she didn't pull away.

"I always manage to pick the wrong guy." She looked up at him and noticed the slightly hurt look on his face. "And I always manage to say the wrong thing." She tried not to look at him, but found his face just too mesmerizing. After a few moments she had to look away though. The smoldering look was back, and in light of what had just happened it made her slightly uncomfortable.

"I can't imagine you always pick the 'wrong guy' as you put it." Jane said, sitting in the chair next to hers.

"Oh, I can. In high school I always went after the nerdy types, they wouldn't have me though, my dad was the football coach, all the guys who weren't jocks thought I was only interested in them as a prank. In college, my boyfriends always managed to be the ones who got caught cheating, on me or on a test, and now, well, let's just say that if Rigsby was mad at you, just imagine what Lisbon's going to do when we get to work in the morning."

Jane tried not to chuckle, it was so like Grace to be concerned with everyone else over herself and her feelings. "What makes you think Lisbon's going to find out?"

"Rigsby is seriously pissed off at you, and me, right now. You know that when we get to work in the morning Lisbon's going to notice. One minute alone with her and he'll start talking like a nosey neighbor on a poorly written sitcom. He has even less of a backbone than I do, at least when it comes to dealing with women." Grace sighed heavily and got up. She walked back over to the sink and drained the now cold water. She wasn't in the mode to wash dishes now, she would do it tomorrow. She stood there watching the water swirl down the drain. The music coming out of the radio reached her ears, and it made her mad. Music that was the whole reason she was in this mess. The whole reason she had been caught making out with the very sexy consultant by the overly protective unit brute, who admittedly had a violent streak. She just hoped he didn't do anything rash until she had a chance to talk to him.

"I don't think that you talking to him will help matters at this point. I think he just needs to sort it out on his own. In the mean time, I better make sure that I've stocked up on pain killer and ice packs, I see a broken nose and black eye in my future." Jane said with a chuckle.

"Jane, don't joke about things like that." Grace said turning off the radio with a little more force than was called for.

"I preferred it when you were calling me Patrick." He moved towards her until he was standing in her personal space. He reached out his hand and trailed it up her arm, smiling slightly as he noticed her slight shiver.

"Patrick, what are you doing?" She was trying to control herself this time, but it was so hard, especially when he had that look, the smoldering haunted look in his eyes. He gave her a smile she had never seen before, she decided to call it seductive smile #1, and she felt herself moving towards him again, bringing her hands up to his chest, smoothing his shirt out across his strangely firm muscles. She stopped her hands moving across his chest, she couldn't get distracted; they needed to finish this conversation. "Patrick, we need to talk about this."

"I don't see why Grace. We are two responsible adults who just so happen to be attracted to each other. I can't help what other people think, just what I think. And right now, I think I want to kiss you." Jane reaches a hand up to cup her face.

"Despite the fact that Rigsby will probably never speak to you again, or me for that matter, Lisbon's not…Oh no, Lisbon. What's she going to say, I always thought that you had a thing for her." She felt her face getting red and she turned her head away and down from him slightly so she couldn't see his face.

"What, the 'flirting'? No, that's just to make her feel special. Really it started when she was stood up for a date one night. She was feeling particularly unattractive and unfeminine, and I was just trying to cheer her up. It's just become habit now." He said all of this like it was no big deal. He had removed his hand from her face and had placed them on her hips again, making slow lazy circles with his thumbs across her stomach.

"But, she always seems to enjoy it so much, are you sure?" Grace looked back up at him again to see humor had replaced the smoldering look in his eye. His smile was one she recognized now, boyish grin #4.

"She's been dating a guy named Jack from the AG's office for the last four months."

"No way, she would tell us if she were dating someone, wouldn't she?" Grace was a little surprised, Lisbon had seemed a little happier lately, smiling more, not snapping as much, and actually leaving work on time when they didn't have a case.

"Not likely, we don't talk about our personal lives at work. I followed her one day when she was off to the AG's office for the fourth time in a week and caught her kissing him. Don't worry; I put the fear of Rigsby in him. Told him if he hurt our beloved leader I would sick our guard dog on him." Grace couldn't help but laugh at the image of Rigsby as a big giant dog, attacking a man for harming his master. "He didn't seem to find it nearly as funny as you do."

"Obviously he's never seen Rigsby hypnotized, next time he's under you really should make him do Tina Turner, he's so afraid of it." She couldn't help laughing and found that the humor seemed to have eased some of the tension she was feeling. "Would you like to watch a movie or something?" She asked stepping away from him slightly.

"Sure." He said, smiling his classic smile at her and taking her hand as she guided her towards the living room. He sat on her comfortable and not over fluffy sofa. It reminded him of his own back at the CBI headquarters. Her sofa wasn't leather, but that would probably be a bit expensive on a newbie's salary. She selected a sappy romantic comedy after he said he had no preference. He tried not to laugh at her choice of movies, he had a feeling they wouldn't be watching much of it tonight.


End file.
